Unspoken
by creek-chub
Summary: Spock and Uhura have an encounter after Nero's defeat.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of this and I don't make any money off of it.

_"...please tell Lieutenant Uhura-"_

_"Spock! It'll work."_

Spock was trying to meditate. The day's events had been…trying, to say the least. Death had been all but certain, yet the part that was haunting him wasn't so much his brush with mortality, but a regret at the fact that his own personality, his very _nature_,was keeping someone he cared about very much at a distance. He could have easily been killed today, and the only way Nyota would have known the depth of his feelings would have been a second-hand account from Jim Kirk. And what if both he and Kirk had died? Nyota never would have known. Spock reflected on his need to change this state of affairs.

As a boy, he had been aware of the hurt that sometimes seemed to emanate from his mother when his father had come across as especially cool and casual towards her. In his immaturity, Spock had thought his mother over-emotional. It was only when he had grown and had had more personal level interactions with the human race that he realized just how comparatively stoic his mother actually was.

The thought of his mother brought an unwelcome gnawing in his core. He pushed it aside, trying to tell himself it was illogical to dwell on that which couldn't be changed. His mother was dead, and while it was unfortunate that neither he nor his father had ever acknowledged any depth of feeling for her, it was moot at this point. He took a deep breath and refocused his mind.

"_I married her because I loved her."_

Suddenly, the floodgates were completely opened and he gave up trying to stop his train of thought. That his father, whom Spock found both fearsome and awe-inspiring, could convey such regret and sadness…well, it made it a little easier for Spock to lower his own rigid standards and allow a modicum of his own regret and sadness to shadow his mind.

Nyota.

If Amanda had suffered hurt feelings over something Spock now knew to be a mere miscommunication as a result of two very different cultures, there was no reason to think that he had not caused the same hurt to Nyota. He pondered the best way to rectify the situation and came to the conclusion that he must talk to her. Before he quite realized what he was doing, which could only be a testament to the fatigue he was feeling, he was on his feet and leaving his quarters to seek out Lt. Uhura.

He arrived at her doorway and buzzed his presence. When a minute had gone by and the door didn't open, he began to consider his options. Just as he was deciding to return to his own quarters with plans to find Nyota the next day, she came around the corner. She stopped short, her nervousness coming off of her in waves. She slowly took the last few steps to her doorway, coming to stop square in front of Spock.

"Commander," she said, resorting to a formal greeting when Spock didn't say anything.

"Nyota," he murmured, and she felt the tension leave her body. His voice speaking her name was like a caress, and the fear she had that he was going to reprimand her for initiating their earlier public display of affection melted away. She started to move into his embrace but thought better of it and opened her door, instead.

Once inside, they clung together, lips and hands seeking to assure each that the other's physical presence was indeed a reality. It was when the clothing starting coming off that Spock broke away, determined that the purpose of his visit wouldn't get sidetracked.

"Nyota, I—"

"Shh," she said, framing his face in her hands. "Shhh."

"But—"

"No. Don't say anything." She silenced any further protest he might have by pressing her lips back against his with renewed vigor. Her hands squeezed and pushed and pulled at him with a strength that he'd never before felt from her. It wasn't long until they abandoned their remaining clothing and melted together in the functional, Starfleet-issued bed, her soft curves cradling his angular form.

Later, once they had been sated and Spock drifted off to sleep, Nyota sat propped against the head of the bed, looking down at him and contemplating his earlier attempt at a declaration. She had known what he was going to say and it tugged at her core to stop him from doing so. However, she was a smart woman and it wasn't hard to put two and two together. The man had just lost his mother and, being who he was, had likely never offered her an affirmation of his affections. Anything Spock would have said tonight wouldn't have been directed at Nyota, but at Amanda.

Nyota wasn't a particularly religious person, but tonight she devoutly hoped that there was some way Amanda could look down and realize the extent to which Spock had cared for his mother. Then again, Amanda had been a very smart woman, too, and Nyota was sure that Spock had shown his affection to his mother in a million different ways every day, the same as he did for her.

Nyota leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp and then scooted herself down under the covers. As if by instinct, Spock wrapped his arms around her, holding her close within a protective embrace. Nyota smiled into the darkness.


End file.
